


16 again

by tooshorttobesweet



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood and Injury, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gangs, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, Light Angst, M/M, but make them rivals, but we been knew, i put lev in for like 5 seconds because i love him, i say graphic violence but im just being precautious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooshorttobesweet/pseuds/tooshorttobesweet
Summary: Shouyou was hurt. He was bleeding.He knew he could handle it alone, like an adult. Had to.But then someone else showed up, and he didn't have to deal with it on his own anymore.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Kudos: 85





	16 again

**Author's Note:**

> picture this; it's 3am, you're working on another fic, and your friend messages u frantically, "I NEED A FIC WITH THIS. IDC WHO IT IS. I NEED IT"
> 
> the prompt? "Character A tilting Character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained. 'Who did this to you?'"
> 
> and what do you do? you write it at 3am.

Blood fell to the sidewalk like drops of rain as heavy footsteps thundered overhead.

He was tired, mind barely functioning from exhaustion - the blows his head had received not helping in the slightest. He won the fight, of course, but he didn’t get away unscathed. Scenes of the fight flashed through his head as he walked quickly yet clumsily to Karasuno’s home base.

His opponent was tall but lanky, eyes young and terrified above his face mask and under his hood. It clicked in Shouyou’s mind easily, making him relieved and irritated at the same time. Relieved because he was 99% sure he would win this fight. Irritated because who the _hell_ was sending kids to do dirty gang work?

So what if he joined at 16? He was never sent to attack well-known ‘gangsters’ like himself.

And he was well-known, thank you very much. Nevermind his quick climb up the rankings - his vibrant, orange hair was impossible to ignore. It matched almost perfectly with the strip of orange on the zipper of his jacket - something all the groups in the area were required to wear, a marking of their gang, for insurance reasons. 

The boy in front of him knew this, at least. But the teal circle on his shoulder only aggravated Hinata’s nerves. 

What the hell did Oikawa want from him?

He could’ve at least sent-

And that was when the first blow came, right to the temple, and Hinata was stunned.

Just for a moment though. 

He took his opponent down efficiently, ignoring the jabs to his collarbones and jaw where the boy could reach best. He only wanted to knock him out and was about to do so, when the glint of a knife made him pause. 

Of course, he had a weapon - Shouyou was stupid to think otherwise - but the opponent took advantage of his moment of processing and swiped it across his forearm. He hissed and retracted the arm, only for the boy to sweep his leg out from under him, causing Hinata to tumble on his side to the pavement. 

His teeth clacked and his lip split. But the pain brought him out of the shock, and he aimed a kick at the boy’s temple, effectively finishing what he was there to do.

Now, Shouyou realized that maybe he shouldn’t have let the boy get in so many hits to his head, no matter how weak.

Rounding a corner, he startled. He wasn’t at Karasuno’s base.

He was at the abandoned Kita-Ichi warehouse.

Perhaps his mind wasn’t so scrambled. This place had become like a second-base to him, a hidden futon wrapped up in an abandoned crate, medical supplies in the useless electricity box, non-perishables in an old backpack which hung from a broken rafter.

It was closer to Seijoh’s base than he would’ve liked, but it was a nice rest stop if he was ever too exhausted to make it to Karasuno. Like now, for example.

Ironically, his haven was the first place he’d ever been in a gang fight. He was younger than the boy he’d just fought, rebelling from his parents, wanting to prove himself in more than a high school scuffle. 

Up against a rising name in an already feared gang, he never stood a chance.

But, he won’t back out until he gets one.

Shaking out the futon as best as he could with one hand, he replaced himself with his younger self in his mind, and the boy he just fought with a slightly shorter, leaner one.

A then-teenage boy with night-black hair and terrifyingly deep blue eyes. Who wore the same face mask as the boy, but whose eyes were calm and determined, fixed into an almost permanent glare. Who stood tall like he ruled the world. Who pulled down his mask against the warnings of his companions to personally insult Shouyou. Who never needed to say his name for Shouyou to know who he was.

“Kageyama Tobio,” he said aloud, drowsy with aches and piled up insomnia. “King of the Streets.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Shouyou was glad he had successfully rolled out the futon - it didn’t hurt as much when he spun around too quickly and fell on his butt.

With a strangled gasp, Shouyou gaped at the intruder. He was even _taller_ and _more_ fit than he had been remembering him, but his hair was just as dark, blue eyes just as frightening. There was a change in his posture, more hunched in on himself, less commanding. But it was him.

“K-Kageyama,” Shouyou stuttered, too worn out to care about appearances or formalities. “I didn’t know you were here - I haven’t called you that in ages. Then again, I haven’t _seen_ you in ages. Or months, I guess. I thought you died! How am I supposed to beat you if another rival goes and kills you?”

He wasn’t sure how he got to this point, rambling without a filter, but Kageyama always managed to make him feel 16 again. His glare and signature scowl made Shouyou a fumbling mess, and his lips seemed to curl downward with even more force as he stepped toward him. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Shouyou yelped, backing off the futon and head hitting the back of the crate with a clang he didn’t register. “I-I’m already injured, see! You wouldn’t beat a man while he’s down, would you? E-even you have to have some sense of self-respect! Kage-”

He flinched as the man squatted before him. Kageyama’s face hadn’t changed, but Shouyou thought he saw something flash in his eyes. He didn’t want to look again, though. He’d gotten lost in the depths of that ocean only once before. 

He still wasn’t sure whether he’d ever really made it out.

But then, long, delicate fingers are reaching for his chin, tilting his head up (he wasn’t aware he had lowered it) and toward his. Shouyou was forced to look up at Kageyama, then. Like the time before, he was unable to make a noise. He felt if he dared open his mouth, even gasp, the dark waters of Kageyama’s eyes would flood his lungs, leaving him stranded. Take his last breaths.

Right as Shouyou couldn’t stand it, had to breathe, say _something_ , Kageyama redirected his attention elsewhere. It took another hand guiding his hair away from his face, brushing the bruise on his temple, for Shouyou to realize he was examining his injuries. A thumb brushed his lip, flakes of drying blood falling away into the air. 

The hand didn’t move. Kageyama’s finger brushed his lip again, so gentle it _hurt_. He took a small intake of breath, and it dawned on Shouyou that he hadn’t said a word since he made his presence known. Their eyes met a split second before he spoke, and his heart almost stopped as he had feared. 

The tone was nothing like before. Earlier, Kageyama had been annoyed, indignant. Now, his voice was so quiet Shouyou was glad they were this close, and it was… bone-chilling. 

“Who did this to you?”

Furious.

Different shades of blue flecked in Kageyama’s irises. A lighter colour brought him back to around an hour earlier. The glint of teal on the boy’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you know?” Shouyou asked, just as softly.

Kageyama blinked. His brows unfurrowed and his frown lifted. “What?”

It struck Shouyou, why he was so mad at Oikawa, how he didn’t understand why he couldn’t have just sent- “The guy I fought,” he clarifies, and now it’s his brows that are lowering. “He wore Seijoh’s mark.”

And just like that, Kageyama’s scowl returned full force. His hand tightened on Shouyou’s jaw, and he retracted it like it burned when Shouyou winced. “That-” Kageyama began, then stopped, standing up again and walking to the opposite wall of the crate. He slammed a fist into the rusted steel so hard Shouyou _swore_ it dented. “That son of a bitch! Manipulative asshole! Why the fuck would he-”

And then he cut himself off once more, before chuckling humorlessly, leaning his forehead against the wall, “I know why.” He paused.

Kageyama turned to Shouyou. “Are there medical supplies?”

Still endlessly confused at Kageyama’s conversation with himself, Shouyou nodded mindlessly. “In the electricity box,” he told him, and Kageyama was gone within a heartbeat. 

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” Shouyou asked himself. He leaned his head back against the wall and instantly regretted it, hissing with pain as he remembered the latest bruise.

As if sensing his pain, Kageyama appeared before him with the medical kit in hand, guiding him back onto the futon with a gentleness Shouyou had never felt from anyone but family, much less _Kageyama._

“Take off your jacket,” he told him. Shouyou tried to comply but winced when he peeled off the sleeve from his bloody forearm. Kageyama was instantly taking his wrist, looking at the wound with a careful eye. 

He looked up at Shouyou for an explanation. “He had a knife,” Shouyou said in answer. _I got distracted,_ he didn’t say, but Kageyama gave him an unimpressed look anyway. 

There was silence as Kageyama went about tending to his injuries. He smoothed lotion on the bruises, cleaned the smaller cuts, and wrapped his forearm with experienced hands. “Anything else?” He asked before he put the supplies away. Shouyou stared. Should he tell him? The bruises on his collar bone weren't that bad, they would heal without the cream, but- “Spit it out, dumbass.”

“My chest,” he mumbled. When Kageyama gave him an irritated look, not hearing, Shouyou groaned and reached to pull off his T-shirt. He did it with some difficulty, sore and bandaged. But it was worth it to sigh in relief when Kageyama diligently applied the soothing lotion. 

“I’m gonna stay here tonight,” Kageyama said suddenly. Shouyou opened his eyes so they were half-lidded and looked at him, confused. Kageyama’s face was slightly pink as he finished, hand lingering on his sternum before pulling away. “I found this place a while back, and I’ve used the futon before so…”

“It’s okay,” Shouyou told him, feeling warm inside from all of Kageyama’s attention and his words now. “Tonight, we’ll just have to share.”

So that’s how they found themselves, 10 minutes later, laying side by side on a too-small futon. As if he were at home, Shouyou ditched his shirt and opted to just use his jacket as a blanket. Kageyama laid beside him in his long-sleeve, jacket underneath his head as a pillow.

Needless to say, it wasn’t the most comfortable position for an achy Shouyou. He refrained from shifting for fear of angering Kageyama, but laid stiff instead, accepting how he would probably wake up feeling worse in the morning. 

His eyes had just begun to close, when- “Oikawa doesn’t want me in Seijoh anymore.”

Oh.

Shouyou turned to look up at Kageyama as best as he could. “ _What?_ ”

Kageyama didn’t look at him. “He’d never tell me directly, but he thinks I’m a threat to his position.” He snorted. “Like I’d ever want to lead an entire gang. In the last few months, Oikawa sent me away on ‘business,’ otherwise known as a wild goose chase. I found out the first month, but didn’t want to go back if Oikawa was just there to ruin my life again.”

Shouyou looked away as he processed all the information. He understood, vaguely. But one thing didn’t sit right with him.

Kageyama continued as if reading his mind. “I knew _you_ were here, waiting for me. We needed to talk after- well, still need to talk, but…” He trailed off, and Shouyou tried to meet his gaze once more, sitting up slightly.

“But…?”

“He saw,” Kageyama said finally. “The night of that fight, the night you… I… the night _we_ started… this.”

“Oh,” Shouyou said, out loud this time. 

“I thought he wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t in the area to react to it. Well, I guess he didn’t,” he mused. “I was just stupid to think Kindaichi would keep his mouth shut about me being back.”

Shouyou saw him stiffen at the name. Slowly, but not hesitantly, he reached out to touch the hand Kageyama had laid on his stomach. His heart clenched when he didn’t pull away, rather, lacing their fingers together as he stared straight up.

“The kid?” Shouyou asked instead, not wanting to talk about long-time... comrades. 

“Lev,” Kageyama’s mouth twitched upward slightly. “Good kid, but he’s not cut out for Seijoh. I hope he gets out, too.”

Shouyou raised his head at the ‘too.’

But Kageyama was still relaxed, fingers tightening and loosening around Shouyou’s own hand. He wouldn’t let this moment go to waste.

“Tobio?”

He hummed in response, pleased at the use of his given name. 

“Will you hold me? Like that night?”

Wordlessly, his arms opened, and Shouyou leaned in. Letting go of his hand, Kageyama situated the two so they would face each other, one arm wrapped loosely around Shouyou’s waist, the other acting as a pillow for his head. Shouyou smiled into his chest, his own arms gripping Kageyama’s shirt in front of him. The arm under his head bent slightly so Kageyama’s hand could cradle his hair, hovering over the bruise there. He pressed his lips to the crown of Shouyou’s head, leaving them there. 

When the sun came up, he could ask Kageyama if he was serious about leaving. When the sun came up, he would leave for his home base and have to explain his appearance. When the sun came up, Kageyama would deal with Oikawa’s hatred and his old comrades’ distrust. When the sun came up, the two would deal with the aftermath of Kageyama’s gang attacking Shouyou. 

When the sun was high in the sky, they’d deal with it all like adults, young men who were forced to grow up too quickly in an environment that’s shoot, or be shot.

But for now, Shouyou could watch the moon from the hole in the side of the crate. The same moonlight which Kageyama used to tend to his wounds in a semblance of clarity.

“Hey, Tobio.”

Another hum in response, this one quiet and sleepy.

“The moon tonight is beautiful, isn’t it?”

For now, Shouyou could lay in Kageyama’s arms and feel 16 again.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all should search up that second last line if u don't already know the meaning of it ;)
> 
> also why?? does it have??? some semblance of a plot??? i could probably write an actual story with this tbh... haha jk... unless?
> 
> mayhaps this story will see u later~


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